


Crash Landing

by MidnightTyper



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightTyper/pseuds/MidnightTyper
Summary: Trigger warning for attempted murder and blood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Crash Landing

Sprinting behind a stack of empty market crates, Yennefer felt her lungs burning and screaming for oxygen. Feeling her vision starting to fade, determination fuelled her as she used the last of her energy to craft a portal. Her one last hope of salvation. It crackled a startlingly electric blue as it materialised amongst the luscious limes and sacks of fresh apples. Whipping her head around, and ignoring the sharp pains that sent rocketing to her brain, she came face to face with the predator.

With a malevolent grin, he withdrew a dagger from his cloak as he faced the violet-eyed woman breathing labouringly as she clutched to a crate for support.  
Deciding to take the element of speed, Yennefer forced herself hurtling into the portal before the man decided to take advantage of it to follow her further. However, she wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid the dagger whistling towards her, glinting in the eye of the scorching sun.

Crashing onto her destination, she uttered a feeble whimper before promptly surrendering to the black spots invading her vision. Sinking to the stone flooring, her limbs fell limp.

Shock radiating throughout her very being, Tissaia de Vries ignored the incessant, raucous chattering from around her as she hurried to her former student to try to work out exactly what had just happened. Turning her limp body over, she swore as she noticed the crimson liquid seeping through her hip and out of the black onyx coloured dress and forming a steady pool on the stone flooring.  
“Girls, go to the dining hall. You’re to have an early dinner,” The older mage commanded, her stern voice leaving no room to question. The girls were quick to abandon their enchantment lesson, gossiping in crowded groups as they left the room.

“Oh, Yennefer. What have you gotten yourself into now?” She queried lightly after muttering a spell in elder in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. She gazed momentarily into the violet-eyes she had come to associate with mischief over the past decades. It seemed that there had been another instant of it, and big enough to majorly anger someone high up, she mused to herself as she conjured a blue portal to take them to her personal chambers. Scooping the raven-haired woman into her arms, she uttered a sigh of resignation to her new duties in aiding Yennefer in her recovery.

Appearing in her spacious chambers, Tissaia set to work rapidly. She carried Yennefer over to her king-sized bed, draped in royal blue coverings. Magicking a charcoal gray towel onto the bed, she placed Yennefer on top of it. Brushing back the sweaty locks of dark hair, Tissaia queried to herself as to what she needed to do first. 

Deciding that since the bleeding had since stopped, she figured that cleaning the wound would be the best way to go about it. Thanking the gods that Yennefer was unconscious, and as such wouldn’t feel the anti-bacterial wipes nor the stitches that she was planning on using, she set to work.

Pulling the final stitch through her skin, the Rectoress aimed to be as neat as possible despite the fact that she knew Yennefer would likely remove the scar from herself. After all, she had a reputation to uphold as someone that strived for perfection. Summoning a bandage, she wrapped it around the wound as best as she could, hoping that the stitches would hold as she took a step back. She quickly decided to summon a damp rag as well to place onto her clammy forehead, just in case she broke out into a fever.

Sinking back onto a chair next to the bed, she knew deep down all she could do was wait, no matter how useless that made her feel in the situation. Entering each of her individual student’s minds with ease, she checked to make sure that they had all listened to her instructions. She rolled her eyes slightly as she realised they were all still discussing Yennefer’s sudden arrival. Knowing there was nothing she could do about finding the culprit until Yennefer awoke, she summoned a large tome and began to read in an effort to pass the time.

It felt like hours had passed before she noticed the faint flickering of violet eyes next to her. She quickly vanished her tome back to her desk and hopped to her feet.  
“Yennefer?” She queried, hoping the young sorceress would stay awake long enough to obtain some answers.  
“Water,” She rasped through cracked lips, to which Tissaia hummed a sign of assent. She pushed a small glass of ice-cold water against her lips, watching as Yennefer pushed herself up against the pillows with difficulty and a grimace.  
“Thanks,” She muttered afterwards.  
“That’s quite alright. How are you feeling?”   
“Rough,” Yennefer decided upon, “But the pain isn’t too overwhelming now,”  
“Good, now care to explain exactly how you came to pass out in my herbology class with a stab wound?” She settled upon the prize question.

Yennefer racked her brain with what seemed to be great difficulty as she searched for answers.  
“There was an assassin. He found me when I was buying some perfume at a shop. He chased me into a market and sent a knife at me when I stepped through the portal. You might need to check for a knife in the classroom, because that definitely came through with me,” Tissaia made a mental note of the last remark, knowing it simply wouldn’t do for any of her young students to happen across it.  
“Do you know who sent him?”  
“No, I mean I’ve pissed a lot of people off over the past few decades, Tissaia,” Yennefer barely managed a chuckle before uttering a yelp from the sudden movement to her body.

“And what did he look like?” Tissaia mentally prayed for some sign of a sigil from any of the neighbouring kingdoms.  
“Blonde, long hair. Looked about forty. About 6’7 and muscly. I didn’t get an eye colour, but he was wearing a blue jacket and brown pants,” Yennefer relayed, thinking to herself that it was likely no use anyway.  
“I mean, I can always check with other mages to see if anyone has had a similar encounter. I doubt we’ll find anything until you next leave Aretuza, however, as he certainly will not attack whilst you’re in these walls,”  
“Thanks,” She muttered, already knowing she had to be ready to fight once she teleported back to a different town than the one she’d been in before.  
“You should get some sleep. It’ll likely help your recovery,” Tissaia advised with a smirk. Yennefer rolled her eyes, but grudgingly closed her eyes again. Sleep certainly sounded good to her.


End file.
